New Year's Brings out my Other Side
by Slightly2Loud
Summary: Most romantic time of the year? Not Valentine's, not Christmas, but New Year's. And this New Year, Ireland is determined to pair up all the couples she can find... and that happens to also include her younger brother and a certain American idiot...


**Ciao!**

**Oh my God, I totally forgot about this! I wrote this story ****_months_**** ago and I just forgot to post it. In fact, I think I lost it. It turned up this morning in my music folder while I was trying to find 'God Only Knows' (if you can, look it up; it's brilliant), and I read it and remembered writing it. Just as a note; I wrote it when I was going through a Franada phase, which I don't really ship anymore, and whilst writing it managed to invent a pairing, which I'm now addicted to. I know it's not New Year's, but since when did I write things on time?**

**x Rachel**

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[England POV]

England was sitting in his living room waiting for his friends to show up. He had decided to throw a New Year's party to celebrate the end of another year, and the beginning of a new one. He had invited a few friends, until his siblings had showed up and demanded that they be allowed to have their own friends over as well.

He was sitting on the couch with Ireland, who was reading. Well, until she picked up her book and bonked England on the head with it.

"Ouch! What the bloody hell was that for?"

"You didn't tell me that America was coming, and I forgot to pester you about it earlier," she replied, grinning mischievously.

"Why do you care if that git's coming?" asked England. "I only asked him because you would have invited him anyway." He was lying; he would have asked America anyway, Ireland or no Ireland.

England had a bit of a complicated friendship with America. For a start, America _had _been his 'little brother' for a while, until he gained his freedom, and they did constantly bicker. Nonetheless, America was the only friend England had asides from Japan. And what made the friendship more complicated was that England wanted America as more than a friend sometimes. It was awkward, and England would never tell America, but he really did love the loud-mouthed git.

That was where Ireland came in. Ireland got on pretty well with France and Spain and Prussia, known to everyone else as the Bad Touch Trio. She laughed at all of Prussia's really bad jokes, slapped France when he… well, never mind, and let Spain rant about how much of a PMS-y bitch Romano was. But the one thing that made her fit in with the group was that Ireland was a born matchmaker. She adored pairing up couples, and didn't pay any regard to gender, race, relation, whatever; if it was true love, Ireland ate it up like _that. _She loved pairing up countries that England worked with, and some of her pair-ups made sense. In her mind, she had paired up him and America, Italy with Germany, China with Russia, Japan with Greece… in fact, she had mentally paired up every country in the world. His big sister was a nightmare.

Ireland opened her mouth to reply, but was stopped by the sound of the doorbell.

"I'll get it!" she grinned, jumping to her feet. Ireland loved talking to people. She thrust open the door to find a group on the porch.

"Guys!" she screamed, pulling France, Spain and Prussia into a hug. They hugged her back, France a little more than the other two. Ireland scolded him, laughing.

"Come on in," she grinned.

The guests arrived quickly after that. Australia appeared soon after, and Scotland was ecstatic; he and Australia were long-time friends. They were joined later on by Hong Kong, who, for reasons England didn't know, actually enjoyed hanging out with Scotland. Canada arrived next, and was greeted by Wales, the only country who ever seemed to remember him. Northern Ireland walked around chatting to Romano, who was impressed to find someone who swore more than him, and occasionally wandered off to annoy Slovakia with his spoon nose trick. England was pleased; his siblings were staying out of trouble.

America arrived last, apologising, wittering on about how he had missed the bus and forgot the taxi guy's number. It was very hard to concentrate on what he was saying, England found, when he looked so completely gorgeous; he was wearing a dark blue shirt with black jeans, his jacket slung over his shoulder, his blonde hair even more ruffled than usual. He looked perfect. England shook his head angrily.

"England? Dude? You okay?" America asked, confused.

"Yes, fine. Sorry, I was just thinking about something. Come on, let's get inside. Korea's probably broken every vase in my living room," said England, laughing.

The night went by quite well, and England had only one worry; Ireland was nowhere to be seen. He'd seen her flitting through the crowds, yeah, but he hadn't actually seen her talking to her friends, or eating excessively from the buffet. It was confusing. Eventually, at 10 to 12, he saw her, slumped on the couch, breathless.

"Ireland! Where were you!" he asked, sitting down next to her.

"Oh, it's nothing," she laughed, not quite meeting his eyes. England raised an eyebrow.

"OK, OK!" she said, holding up her hands. "You got me. But seriously, I wasn't doing anything bad. They would have got together anyway."

"Ire-land," said England slowly, in a menacing voice.

"I promise! I just went around doing a little bit of pairing up. Come on, I deserve a bit of romance. It's the end of the year! Hey, what time is it?"

England looked confused, but checked his watch. "Almost 12. Why?"

"Great," grinned Ireland, rubbing her hands together. She stood up on the coffee table, and called everyone's attention. "Guys! Countdown time!"

The nations circled around her, grinning. And then, it started.

"10!"

Everyone moved away from France.

"9!"

Prussia came out of the bathroom, confused.

"8!"

Austria told him what was going on.

"7!"

Prussia grabbed Austria by the waist.

"6!"

People began to look at the others nervously, and Ireland winked at England.

"5!"

England got confused at what the wink meant.

"4!"

Wait… did she pair me up with someone?

"3!"

Italy woke up from his doze, baffled.

"2!"

Italy realised what was going on, and joined in.

"1!"

Everyone shifted around unconsciously.

"Happy New Year!"

All hell broke loose.

To begin with, Prussia dipped Austria back and kissed him, French-style. Austria immediately attempted to push him off, before changing his mind and pulling him closer. Canada, shrugging, reached out and grabbed France by the collar, pulling him in for a kiss that France returned with just as much enthusiasm. Finland leaned up and kissed Sweden quickly on the cheek, blushing, and pulled away as quickly as he could, but not for long before Sweden reached out and pressed his lips against the other nation's. China, who had been watching this all, nodded, grinned, and turned to kiss Russia on the mouth. The strongest nation in the world sat completely dumb for a moment, before throwing himself on top of China and kissing him back.

England turned just in time to see a sight he'd never pictured in his life; Australia lean forward and kiss Scotland sweetly on the lips, before pulling away, grinning. Scotland stood still for a second, silent, before shaking his head and pulling Australia back, kissing him and knocking his pint to the floor as he wrapped his arms around the other's neck. England watched, amazed; he never knew his brother liked Australia. Sure, he talked about the Aussie enough, but England never thought he loved him. His brother was very bad with handling emotions.

Spain had already pulled Romano to him by the time England saw them, and Romano, after initially struggling, had ended up kissing Spain back, his hands in his hair. Over by the piano Italy and Germany were involved in a similar embrace, which was unusual for Germany, who hated any form of PDA. Here he was though, kissing Italy like tomorrow wouldn't come. Hong Kong had kissed Iceland on the cheek, before being slapped in the face and pulled back for a kiss on the lips by the passionate Nordic. Oh, and Japan was sitting next to Greece, completely pink, while Greece smiled at him.

England was amazed. The New Year really did something to people, didn't it? Just then, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around, and immediately felt lips press against his own. America's, to be precise.

What?

That was the last thought England processed before he found himself kissing America back. The taller nation held him close, and England wrapped his arms around America's neck, completely unaware of the stares they were getting. America tasted of sugar and icing and chocolate, a taste England couldn't get enough of. He stuck out a tongue gently, and America opened his mouth, letting England taste more of the sugary cavern. Eventually, they had to break apart for air.

England looked up at America, still being held tight by the taller man.

"What was that?" he asked, wide-eyed.

America laughed. "Dude, you are the most oblivious thing I've ever seen. You're adorable, you know that? Anyway, you didn't like it?"

"No, not at all," said England quickly. "I loved it. But I didn't think you would."

America bent down and kissed England again, quickly, softly.

"Happy New Year, Iggy," grinned America.

"Happy New Year," whispered England back.

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[Ireland POV]

Ireland woke up on New Year's Day, rolled over, and bashed into her little brother.

"Ouch! Ireland wha' are ya doin'?" slurred Northern Ireland, obviously hungover.

"Nothing. Go back to sleep," she whispered. "I'm just going to go check that everyone's alright, and France hasn't stripped onii-chan, because I know he wanted to." Northern Ireland giggled faintly, before rolling over and going back to sleep. Ireland stood up.

They had slept in the kitchen due to lack of bedrooms. The fight for a room was so long that eventually Ireland decided that no-one would sleep in the bedrooms; they could sleep in the kitchen, bathroom, living room or on the stairs. She and her little brother had slept on the floor, and Wales had slept above the fridge; both of them were completely conked out. Ireland crept out of the room quietly, and into the living room.

Lying on the sofa, arms around one another, were Germany and Italy. Ireland sighed happily. They really were the cutest. Italy had nestled into Germany so his head was resting on the taller nation's chest, and Germany was unconsciously running his fingers through the Italian's hair, peaceful-looking and happy. They were the match made in heaven; it had been easy to pair them up.

On the other sofa sat Russia, who was so tall he wouldn't fit lying sideways, and had to sit up instead. China lay stretched out across the sofa, his head in the Russian's lap, breathing contentedly. Russia's head drooped slightly to the side, and his scarf had been chucked on the floor, showing a hickey on the side of his neck. Ireland grinned. China sure did work fast.

On the arm chair lay Romano, who was small enough to fit on sideways with his feet dangling off the edge. His mouth was slightly ajar, and he looked peaceful and happy. Spain lay against the front of the chair, his arm suspended just above his head. Ireland looked closer, and sighed. He was holding Romano's hand in his sleep. Cute!

She pulled open the closet door to find exactly what she expected; France, lying asleep, with a shirtless Canada on his lap, also asleep. He wouldn't get cold though; France had wrapped his arms around the smaller nation, holding him close and half-smiling in his sleep. Ireland didn't even want to picture what her friend was dreaming about.

She closed the door again, and wandered off to find the rest of her couples.

Prussia and Austria were lying against the switched-off radiator, side by side. Austria's head was resting on Prussia's shoulder, and Prussia was grinning slightly in his sleep. Ireland looked a bit closer, to find that Prussia had his hand in Austria's back trouser pocket. Well, that's what you get, having perverts for friends.

In the corner of the room, over by the piano, lay Hong Kong and Iceland. Hong Kong was sitting up, lying against the side of the piano, and Iceland sat on his lap, his head rested in the crook of the Asian's neck, one hand brushing Hong Kong's cheek gently. Ireland grinned. Iceland was a flirt even when he was asleep.

Finland and Sweden lay in the other armchair, next to the window. Sweden was sitting up, his head drooping to the right, his arms round Finland in a form that meant if he stood up he'd be carrying the other Nordic bridal-style. Finland was fast asleep as well, mumbling something about Hanatamago and crayons. Weird.

Greece and Japan were asleep too. Greece was completely fast asleep, holding Japan to his chest in his sleep while his cat slept on his head. Japan was sitting right next to him, supporting the huge Greek with an unconscious smile on his face. Ireland had to cover her mouth to stop squealing; they did look adorable, sleepy Greece hugging the peaceful Japan. She dusted off her hands, and turned around to go and find her other two brothers, only to come face-to-face with one of them.

"How the- What the bloody hell, Ireland?" hissed England, looking outraged. "What did you do? This is like a scene out of one of your cheesy romance books, where everyone gets together at the end! What- How-," he stuttered, and Ireland pulled him over to beside the stairs.

"You'll wake everyone up," she hissed back. "Now, what's your problem?"

"What the hell were you thinking?" he whispered. "When you said 'a little bit of pairing up', I didn't think you meant every couple you ever fantasized about!"

"Listen, I can explain," Ireland whispered, and England folded his arms. "I didn't do all of that! Well, maybe some of it, but still!"

England raised an eyebrow.

"I swear! Okay, maybe I did a bit of matchmaking with Germany and Italy, involving Prussia, a closet, and a bit of preparing, but come on! They're _made _for each other. Look at them! They fit perfectly together. I was just speeding up nature's course.

"And yes, I did all the Spain and Romano stuff. Spain rants about how annoying Romano is all the time, and Romano bitches about Spain 24/7 too, but you should see the way they look at each other in world meetings! They're obsessed with each other. They just wouldn't admit it. And Nortie helped me out in that one as well, so it's not all my fault."

'Nortie' was Ireland's affectionate nickname for Northern Ireland, their little brother.

"And I helped Prussia with the whole Austria thing. He's had a crush on him for ages now, so all we needed was for Austria to be close to him when the clock struck midnight, so he could kiss him. Prussia's a brilliant kisser, it was no problem."

England looked a little put off, and Ireland realised what she'd said. "Oh, yeah, it's a long story. I don't like Prussia though, in case you're wondering. It's just, the guys really did need a bit of kissing practise, and I was standing there. Listen, it's nothing, okay?" She was going redder and redder as she said this.

"Anyway, back to the topic. Those were the only ones I did! The rest was just coincidence! Well, I expected China to kiss Russia. I mean, he's been hanging around that fella for ages now, it's obvious he likes him. But I didn't do that! That was done by the mood.

"And Hong Kong and Iceland! I didn't even suspect that! Seriously, I was so amazed when Hong Kong kissed him on the cheek, and then Iceland slapped him for being a moron, and kissed him for real. That was crazy cute, ya know? Those two are to die for.

"Well, Sweden and Finland, we all saw that coming. Only, I thought Sweden would make the first move. But still, I'm not complaining."

Here she stopped, counting on her fingers and mumbling to herself.

"Oh! Greece and Japan, that wasn't me either! Although, you gotta admit, that was a really strange coincidence. I mean, I was just talking about them yesterday, remember, and how cute they are, and then they end up together! You should have seen Japan's face when Greece kissed him, but you were too busy watching Canada.

"Oh yeah! That was the strangest. France had no idea about that; in fact, none of us did. Seriously, I never suspected one thing about them. I just thought, you know, that Canada was kinda neutral to everyone. I never thought he liked France, of all people, but hey, love's a bitch. I guess little Canada couldn't hold back any longer, and France made no objection."

"And what about me, and Scot?" asked England, a little less angrily. Well, at least his sister hadn't intentionally paired up everyone. Ireland grinned.

"You two were easy," she laughed. "Scot told me ages ago about his little crush for Australia, and actually, he described it really cutely. Like, he said all the stupid romantic stuff that they say in my novels. He said stuff like how he finds himself staring at Australia when he talks, not really listening, but just watching him, and how he sometimes finds that when he talks to Australia he just babbles and make no sense. It was really sweet, so I talked to Australia. I told him everything Scot had told me, which was really being quite risky, and Australia looked so totally shocked. And I asked why, and he told me that he fancied Scotland as well! So that was easy; I just had to convince Australia that Scot wouldn't refuse him, and hope for the best, and Scot gave me much more than that. I was looking for him- oh!"

She squealed, and England had to put a hand over her mouth. Ireland shoved him off, ecstatic.

"Look at Scot and Aussie!" she whispered happily, pointing, and England turned.

Lying on the stairs, asleep, were Scotland and Australia. The taller nation's hair was wild and messy, and he was grinning unconsciously in his sleep, holding Scotland to his chest. Their little brother was sitting next to Australia, kept warm by the other's arm over his shoulders, his head buried in Australia's jacket. He was holding Australia's free hand with his own, and looked happier and more peaceful than the two had ever seen their brother look in a while, a slight smile dusted over his face. He mumbled something in his sleep, and snuggled closer to the Australian, who hugged him tighter.

Ireland cooed quietly, overcome with the cuteness of it all, until England brought her back to topic.

"What about me and America?"

"Oh, that was a doddle," she said dismissively. "I know you're crazy about him, and I just had to convince him to kiss you. Easy-peasy. He also told me about this crush he has for you a few weeks back, so the convincing part wasn't hard," she confessed, grinning. "I didn't tell you because I wanted to see if you two could sort it out yourself. Turns out you couldn't, so I had to do it for you. So yeah, there you go; the only ones I paired up were Germany and Italy, Spain and Romano, Prussia and Austria, Scot and Australia, and you and America. That's only half the couples! And anyway, all five of you would have hooked up sooner or later, my help or not."

England nodded. "So… You swear you had nothing to do with France and Canada?"

"I swear. That was all Canada's doing."

"Good," grinned England. "Because I don't think America would ever have forgiven me if he found out my sister paired up his brother and his arch-enemy."

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**This was meant to be much shorter, but I really wanted to describe how all the couples slept (I have weirdness/pervert issues) and I love writing Ireland's POV.**

**By the way, there's some history in the whole Irish matchmaking thing. Every summer, in Lisdoonvarna (a little village down south where my uncle owns a pub) they have a huge matchmaking festival with music and drink and everything. It's great fun! They have them all over Ireland, but I've only ever been to the one in Lisdoonvarna.**

**Also, I'm now freakishly addicted to AustraliaxScotland. I confuse myself sometimes.**

**Like? Hate? Want to flush your Qatari History homework down the toilet? (I suck in this class)**

**Review!**


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